


The Bride

by Akaisurii



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fantasy, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 19:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15691824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaisurii/pseuds/Akaisurii
Summary: In the towering woods surrounding a small village, a certain creature stalked, protecting the villagers from invaders and providing them rich harvests. Yet his services does not come free. Every decade, a maiden is sent into the woods as offering to the unseen creature. Her blood will satisfy the creature's never ending hunger and she will never be seen again...Sakura’s only dream was to escape the confining space of the village she grew up in. She wished to step out of the shelter of the tall trees she’d known since birth. She almost did it too, had the creature who’d been slumbering near their village not awakened and demanded a human sacrifice.Suddenly, she found herself dressed in the intricate cloths she’d woven herself and tossed into the woods with nothing but a torch in her hand to guide her path. Then, she was staring into the most terrifying pair golden eyes she’d ever seen…





	The Bride

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Cardcaptor Sakura does not belong to me  
> This story is a work of fiction, anything similar or bear any likeness to a person, a place or an event is purely coincidental.

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 

It was interesting how a small mistake can ruin an entire image, Sakura noted as she frowned and decidedly gave up on painting all together. She supposed the image can still be plausible, if the viewer could manage to overlook the fact that her cat now looked like a blob of orange, black and white paint.

 It wasn’t her fault, really. Why she was painting when she’d never done so before in her whole life was something that could be blamed on none other than her most talented friend, Tomoyo.

 If one would place Sakura beside her friend and ask anyone in their village who they think was better, one would no doubt point at Tomoyo. Not only because she was a dark beauty whereas Sakura was an average brunette, but because Tomoyo’s list of weekly achievements easily surpassed everything Sakura could’ve done in her entire lifetime.

 Tomoyo was the epitome of talent. She was good at everything she does, which, Sakura supposed, came with being the daughter of the village head. To her it seemed like an inborn trait. She was adored by everyone.

 Stories of her reach far and wide and often times travelers come to their village in search of the ‘myth of beauty’, as they called her. Most didn’t believe such stories at first, but one glance at Tomoyo and they’d dissolve into _oohs_ and _aahs_.

 On the other end of the stick (well, if the stick was thousands of mile long, actually) was Sakura, the average village woman. She was plain, with brown hair and skin slightly tanned from working under the sun. Though if she was a bit more confident she would say that her unusually green eyes were something she could be proud of. But of course, a small aspect of her couldn’t possibly make up for the merely passable state of the rest of her body.

 In terms of personality, she was nice enough, she supposed. But then again, if the basis of “nice” was upon a certain dark-haired beauty who participated in work not for herself, but for the village orphanage, Sakura was certain she was decidedly not _that_ good-hearted. Not that she couldn’t sympathize with orphans–she was an orphan herself–but being average means having an average income. Or in other words, having barely enough food to fill your stomach. She simply couldn’t afford to work and not get paid.

 It was not surprising that Sakura found herself lacking in more ways than one. It didn’t help that she and Tomoyo grew up close (as her mother was a patron of the orphanage Sakura grew up in) and that they were as close as friends can be. Naturally, whispers of comparison arose. Usually Sakura ignored it– as she had learned crying and feeling sorry for herself did not help anyone–and Tomoyo always waved off such words with a smile and a, “Everyone is different. Besides, I don’t see the point of comparing lilies and daisies. I think they are both lovely in their own way, don’t you agree?”

 Sakura also thought of pointing out that daisies are pretty much weeds in their village, but she decided against it. Tomoyo might not show it, but the comparisons affect her as well. She is a very loyal friend and it always bothered her when people couldn’t see how “simply magnificent you are, Sakura!”

 And so, because they valued honesty in their friendship more than anything else, Sakura told Tomoyo of her feelings of inadequacy. Her friend, being the good-hearted person that she is, looked horrified and close to tears. She blamed herself for not understanding her sooner. Then, as if she had a stroke of genius, Tomoyo straightened and formulated a plan. All in the span of two minutes. If they weren’t having a heart-to-heart talk at that time Sakura would’ve laughed.

 “I really don’t believe in talent,” Tomoyo had said. _That’s what people with talent would say._ “I worked hard for everything I’m good at. You know how much play time I had to sacrifice to practice watercolors, right?” Sakura could only nod. “Then it must be the same for you! You simply have to develop skills, with practice.”

 And that was how all this started. Yesterday it was singing. The day before that, writing. Today it was painting. She was neither good nor bad at each activity. She was average in everything. Painfully so.

 “Sakura?” Tomoyo called, her head peaking by the doorway. For their “painting lessons”, Tomoyo had lent her studio. Sakura almost wept at the waste of expensive paints and canvases. “Are you done?” she asked as she entered, retying the apron around her waist to prevent her dress from getting annihilated by Sakura’s clumsiness.

 Sakura bit her lip, glancing at her mutated cat, then nodded hesitantly.

 Tomoyo brightened and clapped. She stood behind her to view her work. “My, what an excellent ball!” she exclaimed. She said it so proudly that Sakura couldn’t help but feel confident.

 But then she fell silent, because she couldn’t remember including a ball anywhere in her work. Then it hit her. “That’s a cat.” She looked up at Tomoyo, whose lips started twitching, then they promptly dissolved into peals of laughter. “I tried!” Sakura protested with a half-hearted glare.

 Tomoyo tried to speak, but could only wheeze and fold her arms over her stomach, her face turning beet red from laughing too hard. Which made Sakura laugh harder, because she looked too ridiculous. They both did.

 “I give up, Tomoyo,” Sakura said with a sigh once they calmed down a few minutes later. She glanced once again at her cat then, after successfully suppressing a snicker, set the brush down.

 Tomoyo studied her, her eyes a bit wet from too much glee. “You know, you’re not _that_ bad.”

 Sakura snorted. “Yes, as evidenced by my _cat._ ”

 “Stop it,” Tomoyo said as she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing all over again. “I mean that you don’t have to be good at everything. One is good enough, and I believe you’re pretty great at sewing.”

 “Tomoyo…” Sakura suspiciously sounded close to whining.

 “What? You are. Just because a skill is less flamboyant than others doesn’t mean it’s less of a skill. You’re a good singer as well, but writing…well, anyway, that’s not the point. You mustn’t compare yourself to others, because we our live lives in our own paces.”

 Sakura sighed and looked down at her hand, tracing patterns on her lap. She could tell Tomoyo, she knew her friend would try and console her, but she came from a different world. Grew up in a different environment. Try as she might, Sakura knew Tomoyo would never understand. “I know that…”

 Tomoyo met her eye, and they both knew that Sakura was holding back, but Tomoyo would never push. She never does, which was what Sakura adored about her.

 “You listen too much to the people in the village. I know they compare you to me, but that doesn’t mean you should as well. We are different, and you have pretty good qualities as well, better than me in fact.” At Sakura’s questioning brow, she continued, “You’re brave and never goes down without a fight. Stubborn, too.” Tomoyo smiled as she gathered the used brushes.

 Sakura frowned. “How is that a good thing?”

 “It means you fight for what you believe. You put your trust in someone, and it will always waver true.” A nostalgic smile touched her lips. “Besides, I know you wish to leave this village someday, so it hardly seemed to matter impressing the people here.”

 Sakura grinned. “Well, I do plan to make the finest cloth and sell them to the richest kings throughout the land. I’ll travel then, and all would bow down to my greatness,” she said with a jaunty laugh. She was jesting, but it was still a nice dream. The traveling one.

 Tomoyo grinned. “I certainly hope you won’t forget me then.”

 “Don’t be silly, I’ll need an assistant,” Sakura teased. But then she immediately sobered. “I want us to leave together, though. You painting, and me sewing. Isn’t that great?”

 Tomoyo grinned as her eyes took a far off look. “That’s very nice indeed. But to start off our dream, I’m going to clean these brushes. Then why don’t you clean up and join us for dinner?”

 Before Sakura could say anything else, Tomoyo fled the room. She sighed, shoulders slumped. If anything, she hated feeling down, so, as she always did, she stood and slapped her palms over her cheeks. Now, _that_ felt refreshing.

 She may never be good as Tomoyo, and the comparison between them might not stop anytime soon, but Tomoyo was right. She should focus on her strengths instead. Soon, she’ll not only sell cloth to this village but to the next one too. Then eventually, she’ll have to travel far and wide to answer to the people’s demands of her cloth. Now, she simply had to make sure she mastered the skill for it. She nodded to herself determinedly.

 Releasing a deep breath, Sakura started tidying up Tomoyo’s studio. But not before casting her unique cat a grin.

* * *

 

The cave he slept in shook as he groaned, his tired limbs quaking as he tried to stand up. He fell back on the rocky ground with a roar, his entire body enveloped with searing pain. Flames seemed to lick his skin, seeping under his scales and eating away the vulnerable flesh beneath. Hunger consumed him, a hunger he was well-familiar with, yet held no love for.

 “Sister,” he cried out, his voice broken, his eyes barely able to open. Was she even alive? She had to be. If he was alive, then she must be as well. Such was a fact. “Sister!” He called out again, louder this time. He heard a rumble, but he wasn’t sure whether it came from his stomach or the sliding rocks around him as he woke from his decade-long sleep.

 Through his half-closed lids he saw a silhouette. Its back was against the cave opening, casting over him a small shadow. “You’re awake,” his sister said, her voice happy yet strained. Something must have happened. That, or she tired of him. Which, considering their unfavorable existence, might not be implausible.

 “I…ache…” he said, his voice fading into a growl of pain. “Find…find…” he struggled to form words, but to no avail. The flames ate at him, leaving him writhing and growling.

 He felt his sister’s hand rest on his snout as she said, “I know.”

* * *

 

Sakura woke with a start, glancing around her small, dark room.  It was a few hours before dawn, an odd time to wake up, even for an early riser like herself. Did she have a nightmare? No, in fact, her dreams were nothing but darkness.

She shook her head and looked down, only to realize that she’d been scratching her chest. She frowned. Not scratching, to be exact, but more like clawing, as if she was trying to get something out of her own skin.

She shuddered, more than a little creeped out with what’s happening. Was it something she ate? Dinner at Tomoyo’s house was exquisite as usual, but she could’ve sworn the peas didn’t agree with her stomach…

Suddenly, her bed shook. She screamed, backing against the wall. Surely, the ground was opening up with the intensity of the tremors that rocked her small home. Then, just when she thought she was going to die from fear, she heard the surprised exclamations and the rushing of feet outside.

Acting quickly, she leapt off her bed and quickly donned a robe over her chemise. She ran out of her small cottage and barely stifled a gasp.

Villagers were out of their homes, looking panicked and aghast as they stared at the burning hill a few leagues from their village. It was unusual, something unnatural, for instead of flames, a pillar of fire seemed to blast down from the skies, painting the hill and the night sky a frightening shade of red. A terrifying roar came and shook the ground, sending a few villagers off balance and on their backs.

Children screamed, mothers cried and husbands hugged their families as if to protect them. But Sakura could only stare, transfixed, as a figure appeared on the roof of the tallest building–Tomoyo’s house.

“Listen all,” the figure finally spoke, eliciting terrified gasps. “The creature who resides in the woods, the one who has protected you for decades, has awoken.”

Sakura had heard of this story. It had been passed down from generation to generation. It was of an unseen creature who stalks the woods and acts as their protector and their provider. Yet His service does not come free…

“The time has come for him to take a new Bride. Send one maiden before the next full moon rises, or he will burn everything down to cinders.” After a wave of a pale hand, the figure disappeared with a blinding lightning strike.

There was a moment of stunned silence, when no one in the village knew not of what to speak. Then the next, panic ensued. Shouts and wails filled Sakura’s ears, but she could barely hear it all. Unnoticed by most due to the rising commotion, all she could do was stare at the pair of great wings that unfurled amidst the burning hill and took flight into the red sky.

* * *

 


End file.
